


Sisyphus

by floweringjudas (manipulant)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blindfolds, Jealousy, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manipulant/pseuds/floweringjudas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius loves Regulus loves Severus loves Regulus loves Sirius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sisyphus

Every time Severus fucks him, Regulus thinks, it's as if the other boy still considers him a virgin.

Regulus doesn't mind at all. It's rather _nice_ , he muses, twisting his fingers tighter in the serpentine design that curls through all the Slytherin dormitory headboards - nice that someone considers him something _delicate_ , something _precious_. And Severus obviously does: the careful touches to his jaw, his ribs, his hips; the painstaking preparation to ease the way for Snape's slim-tipped cock; the tightening of the older boy's jaw as he tries to hold on to let Regulus come first are all signs of Snape's caring. Each time is equally thoughtful, and Regulus finds a certain comfort in being primed, instructed in this way.

Severus's thin lips stretch over the still-developing girth of Regulus's dick, little more than a perfunctory introduction to the joys of oral sex. Snape splays the boy out on his bed, arranges pale limbs on dark sheets and kisses over shoulderblades, ridges of spine, hollow dimples above the swells of his arse. Regulus gasps and mewls as Snape's tongue slides down his crack, over his hole, and _inside_ ; and before he comes, he wonders what would happen if Mother could see this. A pretty, pure Black arse in the air for Eileen Prince's progeny to mark as his own.

(If Regulus is honest with himself, it's not _Mother_ he thinks of first.)

(Fortunately, Regulus is rarely honest with anyone.)

Severus's eyes track him in the Common Room in the evenings, through Regulus's revision and Exploding Snap with Barty and Rabastan, through his jokes with Narcissa and Wilkes. Late at night, when they're the last two awake in a House of insomniacs, Regulus gives Snape a dilute grey shadow of a smile and comes to sit beside him. Rests his cheek on a bony shoulder. Grants unspoken permission with the touch.

And then Severus kisses him as if he's starved for it, hands suddenly tight and twining in Regulus's robes at his back. Teeth clack against his own, and Severus's robes always smell of potions and the forest, and he's always warm against Regulus, their shared body heat pushing away the cold of the dungeons, leaving Regulus flushed and trembling and whining to the older boy of how he _wants_. His cheeks pinpricking red, Regulus shivers, fists his own hands in limp baby-fine hair as Snape's tongue pushes past his lips, flicks over his teeth and palate. Severus's hand shakes as it comes to cup the back of Regulus's head, and the quick bursts of breath on Regulus's cheek are hot, and he squeezes his lips and his eyes shut tight as Snape hauls him closer and bites wet kisses in a trail down his neck

If he's honest (which he isn't), Regulus will admit that _this_ is what made him coax the older boy, his _prefect_ , back to his bed, this sometimes-wild barely-restrained desire. The way Severus's pupils dilate when Regulus smirks at him from across the Common Room/dinner table; the way Snape will press an invisible hand against Regulus's crotch in the hallways when they pass each other; the way they hitch and writhe together behind suits of armor, two feet away and hidden from where students are walking by.

The way other students - even ones as far away as the Gryffindor dinner table - cast swift, glittering glances at the purple-red bitemark on Regulus's neck, the one he isn't even _bothering_ to hide.

 

***

 

The Slytherin Common Room, in the evening - Regulus is bored and frustrated. Severus hasn't so much as _looked_ at him for the past four days and he's beginning to get antsy. He's not used to being ignored.

There must have been a run-in with Potter and Sirius, Regulus muses, because the only time Severus ever kept him at arm's length for so long was after that scene by the lake last year, the one where Evans had to intervene. ...It stung then, it _still_ stings him to think that Severus may yet distrust him, think him anything like the brother he used to have. Sometimes - rarely, now - Regulus catches Severus watching him carefully, almost warily, as if he expects Regulus to shed his skin and turn into some other creature altogether.

 _I'm not my brother_ , Regulus thinks fiercely, and clamps down on childhood memories of laughter and daring and tears. _I'm NOT._

He sets down the book he's been pretending to read, gives a few curious second-years a freezing look. The snakepit isn't a place where open displays of affection are at all the norm, but Regulus has had enough, and he walks the length of the room silently. Stops at the sofa that's been the especial property of Severus Snape for two years now, and waits until Severus looks up from his essay before smiling nervously. Regulus settles down on the sofa beside him, cheek on the tip of his shoulder, fingers resting lightly on Snape's thigh.

There is a pause. The room is watching.

Severus raises an eyebrow at him and shifts - he transfers his book and parchment to the other side of his lap, and lifts his arm, sliding it along the back of the sofa, curling it around the other boy in a gesture inherently possessive. Regulus _beams_ and settles closer, and Snape's features seem more relaxed as he continues to scribble. The rest of the students go back to their studies.

 

***

 

Two a.m. on a Wednesday morning, and Severus has finished the appropriate rounds of cleaning charms, ignoring Regulus's shag-drunk appeal to him _not_ to clean up right away, he _liked_ the feeling of Snape's come in him, _mmm_. There is a ghost of an incredulous smile on his lips, and Regulus (who has both eyes cracked open) is proud to have put it there. Stowing his wand in the drawer of his bedside table, Snape turns and checks Regulus over for bruises or unhappiness, eyes and a hand roaming over his neck and shoulders. Regulus submits, exhaling and tilting his chin helpfully. "You're lovely," he murmurs, stretching both arms above his head, back and shoulders cracking.

Severus frowns at the small pops, and rubs the skin at the base of Regulus' neck. "I'm not," he responds tersely. "Don't slouch during lessons."

"Keep me here during lessons and I won't slouch," Regulus counters easily, craning up for another kiss. Snape rolls his eyes, but does kiss him briefly. Long enough to slide both hands innocuously down Regulus's arms.

A moment later, Regulus squawks as his arms are tugged above his head again and bound to the headboard by a spell. Smirking, Severus enjoys the petulant look the younger boy gives him and runs his hands over soft pale skin, counting down Regulus's ribs, a fingertip dipping into his navel. When Snape shifts and straddles his hips a moment later, Regulus tsks and tries not to look too interested or young. Severus curls down, fingertips finding and ghosting over tightening nipples as he applies lips to the thin shell of Regulus’s ear, and he closes his eyes, satisfied, at the other boy’s gasp. "Keep you here, like this?" he asks.

"If you like," Regulus agrees, breath hitching again as Snape’s blunt nails scratch lightly over his shoulders. The smirk Severus gives him as he pulls away is a bit frightening, and lightheaded with nervous anticipation, Regulus bucks underneath him, testing the strength of the spell, wincing when it doesn’t give.

"Shh." Snape stills him with a hand splayed on his thin chest, and tilts his head as Regulus’s prick gives an interested little twitch underneath him. "You _like_ this," he says, dark eyes going darker in the glittering candlelight above the bed, and he rocks his hips teasingly, smirking as he watches a shiver go through the boy underneath him.

 _Swallowing, Regulus nods, eyes wide._

 _"Of course you like this," Severus murmurs a second later, and leans forward to rest on his elbows. Regulus’s first thought is that Snape is going to kiss him, and he closes his eyes accordingly, but a soft hiss of fabric to his left, and the immediate sensation of silk against his cheeks startles Regulus into opening his eyes again._

 _The world is still black._

 _"...Severus?" he asks, worried and suddenly the _unhappy_ version of scared, but the older boy doesn’t answer right away. Regulus can feel hands lifting the back of his head off the pillow, and is relieved that Snape at least isn’t tying any of his _hair_ into the knot being formed by long fingers. It must be one of their school ties - there’s a small sliver of light down near his nose, and he tilts his head up, trying to get Severus into his thin line of vision, but then there’s a soft _tsk_ and Snape - damn him - readjusts the material to block out even _that_ much. "Sna-ape," Regulus whines, jumpy as something - it must be Severus’s hair - brushes against his jaw._

 _"Quiet," Severus orders, and Regulus huffs, even though his toes curl at the feel of hot breath against his cheek. A pregnant, silent moment between them, and Regulus tilts his chin, frowning a little. "...You look..." Snape begins somewhere above him and to his right, but he trails off and a handful of seconds later there are lips, wet and unexpected and shockingly good, against the cord of Regulus’s neck._

 _" _Oh_ ," Regulus breathes, _feeling_ as if for the first time the rasp of Snape’s tongue on his skin, the slick sharp of his teeth. He whimpers as the mouth is removed, gasps as seconds later Snape kisses him again, this time in the crook of one elbow, and next in the small hollow behind his ear. "Oh," he says again, as careful hands make their way across his chest, down to his hips. He’s more conscious than ever before of the tight heat prickling just underneath his skin, of how Snape’s half-hard cock is rubbing maddeningly gently against his own. The air around them is close and damp and smelling of sex, and oh _fuck_ , Snape’s sucking at his nipple, and the _noises_ they’re making together are enough to get Regulus hard again, get him arching off the mattress, getting _more_ friction against his cock and -_

 _a whispered spell, one that Regulus knows well after two months of constant fucking, and he stills and tilts his head, confused by the _absence_ of lubrication, sensation in its wake. "...Severus?" he whispers, just before lips clamp over his own. One hand tightens on his wrists, skinny thighs press around his hips, and Snape squeezes him, snakelike, in several places at once as he lowers himself slowly down._

 __

***

 _One week after _the_ night, and they're still a bit drugged from the effects - Regulus beams and nestles more than is at all proper, and Snape lets him more often than not. Bellatrix and Severus sneer at each other from across the Common Room in the evenings; Regulus, stuck between them, has treacherous recollections of his cousin getting her hair pulled by his brother, and can't help but feel braver for the memories._

They're snogging lazily in a long-empty Charms classroom before dinner in the Great Hall - there's a Slug Club gathering in Slughorn's quarters for afters, and Regulus has been invited, and Severus _hasn't_. Despite how his jaw still tightens at the ignominy (there aren't many Slytherins who don't merit invitations), Snape has insisted that Regulus go, and report to him after. Regulus is still trying to change Severus's mind, hence the overstated writhing in his lap on the professor's desk, the encouraging noises in the back of his throat, the fingers fisting tightly in Snape's hair.

Mid-kiss, Severus pulls back to look at the clock over Regulus's shoulder. He frowns. "...Oh, _don't_ ," Regulus says preemptively, pulling him back in greedily, kissing at turned-down lips. "Let's just stay." He gives Snape a heavy-lidded smirk and tilts his chin, voice dropping to an affected whisper that he knows the other boy likes. "Why would I want to eat potatoes or, ugh, candied _pineapple_ when I could eat y - "

"Odd, that such a pretty mouth could say such whorish things," Snape interrupts, giving Regulus an amused look, tracing a fingertip over that mouth lightly. Regulus pouts and grinds down onto his lap, and _ha_ , he _knew_ Severus would be hard - "Regulus. Dinner. We're leaving now."

Regulus huffs and pulls his arms away, folding them over his chest. "I'm not _hungry_ ," he says, ever the brat prince of Slytherin House, and Severus keeps looking so _amused_ at him that he hauls off and smacks the other boy's thigh. When Snape's only response is the lift of a thin eyebrow, Regulus squawks and does it again. Snape snorts.

"You hit like a girl," he mutters, and puts his hands firmly on Regulus's hips, moving him off his lap enough to slide off the desk. Regulus wriggles with anger, and glowers.

"You _fuck_ like a girl," he counters, before he can think. Snape's back stiffens, and Regulus feels the anger and the heat in his face drain quickly away, replaced by pale anxiety.

Severus turns, looming over him, looking down his nose at the boy. "Do I?" he asks, expression cool and a bit menacing.

"No," Regulus quickly amends, breath hitching as Severus puts both hands on his thighs, sliding them up. "No, you don't."

"Good." Snape's thumbs trace along the inside seam of Regulus's trousers, and unconsciously, Regulus opens his legs a little wider. "We both have free periods tomorrow. Meet me here, after lunch."

Relieved, shiveringly aroused, Regulus nods. "All right." He tilts his chin up for a kiss, a silent request Severus willingly fulfills. Neither boy notices how the lecture room door swings open and closed.

 

Outside, in the hallway, Sirius Black appears from underneath his best friend's purloined Invisibility Cloak and wishes, for the sake of his own appetite, he'd never followed his brother and Snape into the classroom. Still firmly convinced that the greasy hook-nosed bastard is _using_ Regulus for something, Sirius scowls as he stomps down the hallway towards the Great Hall, already plotting.

He'll have to skive off another History of Magic lesson, but it'll be worth it if it keeps his stupid baby brother safe.

 

***

 

Nervous of keeping Severus waiting, Regulus comes to the Charms classroom ten minutes before they're supposed to meet. The hallway is mercifully silent; Regulus is privately grateful that Ravenclaw and Slytherin Houses both have their free periods at the same times this term. He steals into the classroom easily enough (Severus taught him how to undo the school's mediocre locking charms) and hops onto dust-covered desk at the head of the room, and kicks his heels lightly against the front of the desk.

Hogwarts is rarely silent, especially in the dungeons, and the absence of noise around Regulus is a bit unnerving. He glances around the room, gaze focusing on shadows and corners, seeking out potential dangers in cobwebbed bookshelves and desks. There seems to be none, and he relaxes minutely, and traces his name into the thick layer of dust on the desk upon which he's sitting.

...Fifteen minutes later, when Severus still hasn't arrived, Regulus is criminally bored and has taken to wandering around the aisles of desks, inspecting their surfaces, sniffing at the dates etched into the wood by former generations of students. It's something loony loopy Lupin might find interesting, perhaps, but he doesn't.

Once more around the room, and Regulus has seen everything and is _annoyed_. He sulks and kicks the front of the teacher's desk, again, and glares at the clock (Severus has _never_ been late before). He allows himself a small moment of alarm before he remembers that, of all Hogwarts students, none of them knows better how to protect himself than Severus Snape.

Keeping that thought in his mind, Regulus watches motes of dust catch the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and has an Idea. He smirks to himself as he loosens his tie and begins to undo his shirt buttons.

 

***

 

Five minutes late, Severus hurries down the hall, already frowning as he tries to anticipate how much hell he'll catch for keeping Regulus waiting. Thus preoccupied, he's caught entirely off-guard by the _Impedimenta_ thrown at his back, not three doors away from the classroom where Regulus is. Before he can shout, another spell steals his voice, and before he can crawl to cover, another hex has him immobilised.

A moment later, he's turned onto his back, confronted with the all-too-familiar face of his attacker.

Sirius breaks into a grin. "Hello, _Snivellus_."

 

***

 

It took him two minutes to dust off a chair enough to be able to fold his clothes onto it, and Regulus wishes he knew where the Hogwarts house elves lived, so he could give them a bollocking about not doing their _jobs_ properly. He managed to remember a cleaning spell for the teacher's desk, and now the surface of it shines, and he's unafraid of hopping onto it enough to finish taking off his socks. He sets them gingerly on top of the tidy pile of clothing on the chair, and shivers as a draught wisps across his bare skin, and grins a little as he picks his necktie up off the desk, tugging the knot completely loose.

Crossing his legs, Regulus stretches the material comfortably across his eyes, and fumbles a little as he struggles to tie a strong-enough knot at the back of his head. He winces as a few strands of hair are pulled in it, but after a few seconds of re-arranging, that's sorted, and -

There's a small _snick_ as the door opens, and Regulus automatically turns his head towards it, even though he can't see a thing. He breaks into a relieved smile, but stays where he is, and even props back on his elbows to put more of himself on display. He can hear footsteps and the faint rustle of robes, and a small, gratifying gasp.

"About time you got here," he says, not managing severity, though he _does_ manage a pout. "I did wonder if I'd have to start without you." He jogs one foot idly, waits for Snape to voice either approval or censure.

When there's only silence for a long moment, Regulus can feel the anxiety beginning to tighten in his belly. "...Severus?" he asks, forehead creasing in worry as he sits up. "Do you not like it? I can..." he reaches up his hands to the back of his head, towards the knot, to undo it -

"...Don't," a voice hisses abruptly, only a few feet away, startling him. "Please, leave it." Hesitating, relieved, Regulus obeys and rests his hands on the desktop.

"You _do_ like it, then," he says, hopeful, and tilts his head in the direction of the voice. A second later, he jumps as fingertips touch, feather-light, to the line of his jaw, dragging along slowly. Sucking in a heavy breath, Regulus curls his fingers over the edge of the desk, and wets his lips quickly. "You do?"

"Yes," he breathes, mouth close to Regulus's ear, and the sudden brush of robes against the skin of his thigh is enough to make Regulus shiver. The fingertips touching his jaw trace up his chin, and a thumb slips over his bottom lip, pressing down in the middle. Regulus takes the hint and sucks Severus's thumb into his mouth, flicking the tip of his tongue along the pad, smirking a little as he causes another gasp. Fingers are suddenly on his arm, closing gently, and Regulus concentrates on the warmth of Severus's hand on him. Concentrates on callouses he's never really _noticed_ before, how they rub rough against his skin. Smiling, Regulus tugs the thumb out of his mouth and reaches to kiss each fingertip of the hand in his.

"Since when have you bit your nails?" he asks, gently chiding, as the other boy draws nearer and slides arms around him. His robes smell of woodsmoke and the vanilla of pipe tobacco, and Regulus buries his face in them and inhales, feeling something in his chest unwind at the comforting familiarity of it (his father had a pipe, when he was small). Instead of a verbal reply, Regulus receives a kiss on the top of his head, and he smiles into the fabric, and slides a hand between them, trying to find the buttons to Severus's trousers.

Another quick inhale - "Don't," a breath huffs into his hair, and Regulus makes a discontented noise but lets his hand fall, allowing the other boy to keep control over the situation. For the moment, anyway.

"Well, you didn't have me meet you here just to _cuddle_ me, did you?" he mutters acidly, hands sliding up Snape's arms to his shoulders, moving into his hair. At the other boy's snort, Regulus smirks and tugs him down, using both hands, and he accidentally bumps his nose against Severus's cheek and giggles. A quick shift of muscle - apparently Snape is _smiling_ at the giggle - and Regulus gasps at a tightening in his own chest and quickly presses their lips together. The other boy tenses, but Regulus holds on and shifts closer, squeezing in tighter. He's halfway on Severus's lap before Snape begins to kiss back.

... _oh_ , it's - Regulus shudders and tightens his grip in Snape's hair, because they've never kissed this way before and it's _good_. Feverish, desperate, and _good_ as Severus hauls him in closer, hands roaming over his bare back, over the knobs of his spine and the curling shells of his ears and his cheeks. The tongue in his mouth isn't careful or hesitant at _all_ , and it tastes of butterbeer and something bitter (mint leaves? cigarettes?), and it slicks in beside Regulus's, over the line of his teeth. Insistent, Snape cups the back of Regulus's neck and holds him there while he kisses him roughly, thoroughly, and Regulus whines in the back of his throat, clutching at the collar of Severus's robes as he tries to hang on.

Regulus shivers as Snape sucks hard on his bottom lip, and arches as one hand slides down to grab a steadying handful of his arse, and mewls as Severus leaves off attacking his mouth and begins to kiss and _bite_ (ohgod) his way down his neck. His lips are tingling, and the knotted necktie around his eyes has got tighter in the struggle of the kiss, and he's more than a bit lightheaded as he feels Snape stop at the base of his neck and close his mouth around a patch of skin and lick. "Fuck me," he breathes, toes curling as his head tips back (the suction to his skin means he'll have another bruise to show off tomorrow morning). He never thought it'd feel so good to be _taken_.

A small, almost puppyish whine and Regulus can hear - he's surprised at everything he's _hearing_ this time - he can hear the sound of a belt buckle being unfastened, the small pop of buttons that could be a shirt or his trousers. Then Severus is lowering him back down onto the professor's table, and sniggering softly at the yelp Regulus gives - he can't _help_ it, the desk is _cold_ on his skin - and _Accio_ ing Regulus's shirt to put underneath his head for a pillow. Regulus impatiently reaches for him, and manages to grab the open plackets of his trousers and pull him forward, and slides hands up his sides, somehow missing the prominence of his ribs in their haste. "Up," Snape orders, smacking one thigh as he crawls onto the table as well, and Regulus immediately obeys, ankles hooking around Severus's waist. He's almost immediately warmer as Snape's robes fall down around them both, and then Snape hisses a _new_ spell, one that leaves him wetter but not much looser, and then there's the scrape of trouser buttons against the backs of his thighs, and then there's the blunt head of Severus's cock against his hole, hot and almost too big and _inside_.

"... _shit_ ," Snape chokes as he works further in, rocking his hips gently for a few seconds, then letting the momentum of the small movement turn bigger, harder, faster. Regulus is torn between shuddering and trying to keep still - usually Severus gives him a moment to get accustomed to the intrusion, but not now, he's being fucked before he's ready and the dull ache of it, the gasping thrill, is somehow better and _more_ than what he's used to. He quakes as Severus gets an angle _just_ right, and he gurgles a half-sob as he tightens and loosens the muscles of his thighs in time with Snape's thrusts. Severus's hands are curled around his shoulders to keep him from being fucked off the end of the table, and he's got a tight hold on the front of Snape's robes, and Snape's hair is falling onto his cheek, across his nose. Severus's breathing is loud and uneven in his ear as they work desperately, finally finding a rhythm that works and taking off with it, using and being used. It's _this_ that he'd missed, he'd wanted _this_ when he tricked Severus into his bed that first night: the feeling of belonging _with_ and not just _to_ someone - why couldn't they _always_ be like this?

"Muscle exhaustion?" Severus supplies tightly, managing a hiss as he pistons his cock in and out of Regulus almost frantically, and it takes Regulus a moment to catch on before he realises he must have said that last thought out loud. He'd laugh if he could, but the force of Snape's thighs hitting his own has knocked the wind out of him, and three seconds later he's gasping and tensing and twisting the fabric of Severus's robes in his hands as he comes all over both of them, his arse clamping down tight on Snape's prick, if the small groan is any indication. Regulus whimpers and shivers at a powerful aftershock as Severus thrusts in again, and then there's a small hitch of Snape's hips and a burst of heat and wet inside as Severus comes silently, trembling, slowing to a halt and not daring to move.

Exhausted, Regulus lets his head fall back against his shirt and expels a long breath. He winces and unhooks his ankles, letting his burning thighs rest on the table. "...That was so good," he breathes, moving a hand up across Severus's sweaty temple, into his hair. A damp forehead is suddenly resting lightly on his shoulder, and Regulus tries to get his breath back, a little concerned at how Snape's chest keeps hitching and juddering against his own. "Hmm?"

A tiny nod. "It was."

Eyes closing contentedly (though he still has the blindfold on; he'll have to remove it in a minute, he supposes), Regulus sighs. "Mm." He considers, and lets himself continue, feeling braver than usual. "Oh, I do love you."

He can _feel_ the muscles in Snape's back tensing, and is suddenly terrified that he's misjudged the situation and made a critical mistake. Just as he's about to apologise, though, Regulus's heightened sense of hearing manages to catch, in the tiniest whisper possible, an "I love you too."

The kiss he's given then, a curiously reverent application of hands and lips, is enough to make him believe Severus is telling the truth - the presence of tenderness that finally speaks more of care than fear. Suddenly shaken by the power of his reaction, Regulus clings and kisses back, the silk of his necktie growing wetter from a few tears. He shudders and has to pull the other boy down and into a prolonged embrace, feeling more settled and hopeful and _whole_ than he has in months - ever since the past summer, ever since his family was torn away.

Once he's stopped shivering, Regulus sighs and lets Severus go through a small litany of cleaning spells, and has to kiss him again as they sit up. "Yours," he breathes against Snape's lips, and is a little surprised when his declaration gets no answer.

"...I'm late. Professor, erm, Slughorn will be waiting," Snape mutters, little more than a whisper still. Before he can ask what he's done wrong, Regulus feels Severus slide off the desk, hears him walk towards the door. Hears the gentle _snick_ of the door closing behind him.

A few minutes later, when he's finally managed to get the bloody tie _off_ and dress himself again, Regulus is determined to spend the rest of the years at Hogwarts making sure Severus _knows_ what he said was true. Regulus loves him, and is his. ...And is loved in return.

 

***

 

Sirius paces in the unused girls' bathroom, in front of the open stall where a still-immobile Severus Snape is propped against the partition, glaring hatefully at him.

...He's been pacing for the last five minutes, hair mussed and eyes wild as he tries to come to some internal understanding.

Finally, he releases the silencing hex on Snape's voice, and is immediately treated to a minute-long thread of obscenities and insults involving him, his hair, his mother, the legitimacy of his birth and heritage, and the possibility of his having been raised by house elves.

"...Of course you realise I'll be reporting this to the Headmaster," Snape sneers, which isn't very intelligent of him considering he still can't move. "Hard telling what you've done to your poor brother, but rest assured, Black, that you will _not_ be getting away with it, not without your precious Potter to save - "

Suddenly, Sirius smiles as his pathway is made clear. "Shut up, Snivelly," he says cheerfully, making his way into the stall, looming over Snape with his wandpoint pressed like a promise into his chest. Severus scowls, but closes his mouth. "I _am_ going to get away with this, actually. Because _you're_ not going to tell anyone - especially Regulus - what happened."

Severus raises an unamused eyebrow, and rolls his eyes. "Oh, fascinating. Shall I chalk up this new idea solely to your overinflated ego, or have you managed to sustain extensive brain damage since we last spoke?"

"Snivella, there is only one part of me that is overinflated and it is emphatically _not_ my ego," Sirius drawls, beginning to grin oddly. The manic glint in his eyes is making them glitter strangely in the fluorescent bathroom light, and for the first time in his life, Severus is actually a little _afraid_ of the blustering git in front of him. "No, you're not going to tell anyone, because you still haven't found out where it is Lupin goes each month, have you, Snape?" He smirks, eyes dark, lips dark and red and swollen. "You're not going to tell anyone, because _I'm_ going to tell you."


End file.
